Take care not to miss a door opening because you spend too long looking at the one that has just closed – Carl
Beacons of Light
This collection of stories was inspired by people and places who illuminated the author’s past. Beacons of Light contains both fictional and autobiographical reflections, driven by a love of language and teaching, an appreciation of nature and a gratitude for the encouragement and support received at different stages of her journey.
These delightful tales may be brief but the richness of the writing makes each one a jewel. They roam across Italy, France and the UK; they touch on truth, trust, inspiration, courage and loss; they address reform, science, philosophy and art; they take you to beautiful places, awaken your taste buds and draw us into a thoughtful look at what underpins a full life.
Available as
paperback: ISBN 978-1-0685716-8-8, 160 pages, 128mm x 198 mm
epub: ISBN 978-1-9192046-0-4, 744 kb
Biography
Annette Barker was born in Paris during the Second World War. She was educated in France, where she qualified as a teacher, and taught English for a few years before moving to the UK after marrying Christopher.
While raising a family, she taught French part-time and studied for a degree in Italian with London University.Throughout her life, she has enjoyed sharing her love of French, Italian and Art History with students of all ages, from primary school to adult education. She still likes sharing what knowledge she has, if given a chance!
She enjoys taking short walks in gardens, among trees or by the sea. She loves meeting family and friends. She welcomes any opportunity to learn something new, and to encounter new challenges.
She and Christopher have three children and ten grandchildren. For these and further generations, Annette wrote, in 2023, a short book called Our French Connection.
What Is It About Lighthouses?
They stand in dangerous zones of the sea to guide ships by their beam. They represent strength and help, reliable beacons in a moving and treacherous seascape.
Courageous people were needed to build them, some of whom lost their lives. Valiant people – men and women – also kept their lights burning, braving wild seas to take up their post, until most lighthouses became automatic from 1990 onwards.
Having used wood and coal fires to produce light when they were first built, lighthouses then moved on to oil, and electricity. Their signals now function thanks to Fresnel lenses; these, since the beginning of the 19th century, have been emitting light by refraction, ensuring the regularity of its transmission.
Each lighthouse has its own distinctive signal, made up from the number of flashes, their colour and their frequency; each of these signals allows ships to identify a particular lighthouse, and hence get their bearings.
The French word for lighthouse, phare, comes from Pharos, a former islet now linked to Alexandria. Its lighthouse dated back to c.300 BCE and was destroyed by an earthquake in 1303. Its height (thought to have been 135 metres) made it one of the Seven Wonders of the World.
My predilection is for phares en mer, those built at some distance from the shore.
In Finistère nord, Le Four and Les Pierres Noires stand on either end of the peninsula between the Channel and the Atlantic to guard the Chenal du Four, a passage prone to violent currents and crashing waves. The neighbourhood of the Pierres Noires is too dangerous for ships to come close, and its keepers had to travel between ship and lighthouse hanging on to a balloon sliding on a rope. Les Pierres Noires was converted to automatic operation in 1992, Le Four in 1993.
In Finistère sud, stands Ar-Men – The Rock in Breton – one of the most distant from land in that part of France. Its neighbourhood, La chaussée de Sein, is littered with reefs. Building a lighthouse on such an exiguous rock outcrop was, several times, declared impossible. When the decision to erect it was finally taken in 1866, its completion took over 14 years; its beginnings were slow, since workers had to hold tight on to the rock to avoid being swept away by waves. Compared to the robust silhouettes of Le Four and Les Pierres Noires, it is particularly elegant, rising up to 34 metres from a base which is only 7 metres in diameter. It was the first to be converted to automatic operation in 1990.
It is difficult to see Ar-Men, even on a clear day. But we know it stands there. Mariners may not always see it, but they rely on its beam, as on a friend whom they seldom meet but whose faithfulness is certain.
The sea around Finistère is studded with lighthouses.
Finistère – Penn-ar-Bed: ‘the end of the earth’.
I saw, when I was last there, the motto ‘Tout commence en Finistère’.
There are times when we look out to the open sea for salvation. But also times when perhaps, all we need to do is turn around and begin again.
This memoir was written to leave, for the next generations, a record of a French childhood and adolescence.
Annette was born in wartime Paris in 1940, and spent her early years in France. She moved to England after marrying Christopher.
Their three children and many of their grandchildren have been born and educated in England. Those born in France are growing up in a country that has changed since the middle of last century.
For all these and successive generations, it seemed important to keep alive the French part of their inheritance associated with aspects of the country as it was during World War II, and in the years following it. This is what this short book aims to do. In it, Annette recalls some aspects of her childhood and adolescence, her early French education, the family traditions she experienced. She takes us to some areas of old Paris, and lets us share her love for Brittany and the sea.
Book sales info
Paperback RRP £7.99 ISBN 978-1-9192046-6-6
Ebook RRP £3.99 ISBN 978-1-9192046-7-3
Order from your local bookshop or online: Bookshop.org; Amazon
Flag image by 3D Animation Production Company from Pixabay
What’s Next?
A longer novella. Its very early draft is in progress.
Writing is, for me, re-writing. I go through many successive drafts before I consider I truly have a proper first draft. I am reminded of my brother who, for a while, worked as an apprentice to a jeweller. His task was to prepare rings by shaping the gem mounts, working with a tiny file; great care was needed, since removing too much gold or removing too little would both have been unsatisfactory.
Such fine self-judgement may prove difficult for us as we become so familiar – too familiar – with our own work. Time to seek the advice of a professional; a knowledgeable, critical and constructive reader!
Throughout multiple drafts, I will endeavour to bear in mind Italo Calvino’s advice as quoted below, which I translate as:
First, I will attempt to define my subject. For me, exactitude means, above all else:
1) a carefully thought-out outline of the narrative;
2) the creation of clear, striking and memorable images; in Italian, we have an adjective which does not exist in English, ‘icastico’, from the Greek εικαστικός.
3) a search for the specific words and expressions most able to convey thoughts and imagination in all their variety.
Cercherò prima di tutto di definire il mio tema. Esatezza vuol dire per me soprattutto tre cose:
1) un disegno dell’opera ben definito e ben calcolato;
2) l’evocazione d’immagini visuali nitide, incisive, memorabili; in italiano abbiamo un aggettivo che non esiste in inglese, “icastico”, dal greco εικαστικός;
3) un linguaggio il più preciso possibile come lessico e come resa delle sfumature del pensiero e dell’immaginazione.
Italo Calvino, ‘Esattezza’ in Lezioni americane